“I’ve been up saying good-by to Mr. Sage and Jane. And the funny part of it is that I may not go away to-morrow after all,” said Oliver.
Lansing started and gave him a keen, startled look.
“Has Jane persuaded you to stay?” he asked, after a slight hesitation.
“Not for the reason you may have in mind, old chap,” replied Baxter, laying his hand on the young doctor’s shoulder. “The Sages think I ought not to leave my father.” He spoke in lowered tones, for Lansing’s ear alone.
“I quite agree with them,” said the other stiffly. “Jane has been talking to me about it. She said she intended asking you to change your plans.”
“Mr. Sage opened my eyes to one or two things I haven’t been able to see till now,” said Oliver simply. “My place is here in Rumley, Lansing. For a year or two, at any rate.”
They joined the group at the darkened end of the veranda. Sammy and his bride—a fluffy little giggler—were there; Miss Johnson, the girl from Indianapolis, and two other young men.
“No, thanks, Doctor; I won’t sit down,” said Baxter. “Just ran in to see if Sammy was behaving himself. And to tell you all that you will probably have me on your hands for a while longer.”
“Good boy,” cried Sammy.
“Lovely—perfectly lovely,” shrieked the bride.